“I told you, I didn’t kill him,” Draven insisted.
“Maybe not, but we have his place wired for sound. You made certain threats. Then twenty minutes later, his wife finds him in the garage, his head bashed in with your baton. It’s got your prints all over it.”
“F**k. I dropped it in the yard. He was alive when I left, Erickson. I swear.”
“I believe you, kid. But I don’t think the boss will. Stay put. My guys will be there in twenty.”
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
